My mother asks us to be quiet, to not let words come before thoughts.
And I think of women kept in cages
In houses where they kill the birds.

My mother asks us to not make trouble.
She pours wax in our open mouths and it hardens
I obey and my teeth leave impressions.

When I try to swim, I drown.

Ravneet Kaur Sandhu is originally from India, where her beloved dog longs for her. Her short stories have been published in The Offing, Gordon Square Review and The Rectangle.